


Come and change me

by nerrin



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Fate Episode Spoilers, M/M, Tentacle Sex, Written on a Dare, a lot of hand holding, extremely long build up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 17:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17729417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerrin/pseuds/nerrin
Summary: For better or worse, Yurius loses and finds himself again in Albert. Takes place starting from the back half of Yurius’ Fate Episode.(Spoilers, naturally)





	Come and change me

**Author's Note:**

> [carnivore - starset](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LAMiX5EEbFU)
> 
> i was challenged to write tentacles and had 1 day to get acquainted with these two real quick. i don't know anything about their ROB counterparts so none of that was factored in...cursory knowledge of eye of the storm is possibly required? someone wrote an amazing lore entry on albert's gbfwiki page, do check it out!

****The journey from the forested clearing back to the tavern was one of the longest that Yurius had ever known. Time seemed to pass so slowly. It did not help that he could barely walk, if not for the strength of Albert’s arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders and waist, or that they’d had to stop to make sure the trees were no longer burning as they left.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Albert asked. It was the ninth time in just over thirteen minutes. Yurius had counted.

“I’m fine,” he said, parroting his last reply to the same question. He even managed what could possibly pass for a smile, barely more than a weak shift of his features, but it seemed to reassure Albert somewhat.

“You should rest when we get back,” Albert muttered. “I’ll send word that we’ll be returning late to the capital.”

“Making your fellow knights fuss again?”

“Mina will understand.”

“Oh?” Yurius huffed a short laugh, imagining the blue-haired knight’s frantic scrambling whenever anything so much as hinted that her beloved captain had met with danger. Mina was a kind girl. “There’ll be quite a scene waiting for us, then.”

“Drop it,” Albert grimaced. “I keep telling her not to worry about me.”

“You inspire that sort of emotion in people,” said Yurius, and was met with a chagrined noise from the other man.

Albert’s grip on him had yet to loosen. As they trudged down the meandering forest path that would eventually take them back into town, he continued to shoot quick glances in Yurius’ direction every so often. It was as though he’d thought Yurius would not notice - it was dark out, by now - when really, Yurius had been watching Albert since he’d shown up here in these woods, the lightning from the Skyblade flashing bright and angry as he cut down the monsters that had him surrounded. He dispatched of the creatures one by one, until the light from his blade ceased and there was nobody left in the clearing besides him and Yurius.

Yurius had watched Albert from where he lay on the ground. The soldiers had dropped him and fled in a frenzy. All that remained as proof of their presence was the destruction wrought unto the forest, lines of flame crackling like rough claws raked across the earth, and the pain that thrummed insistently through his body from where he had been hurt, repeatedly by fists filled with rage. It was nothing he could not bear with. He’d had enough time to grow accustomed to such treatment in his youth.

Albert had dashed to his side the instant he could, almost dropping the Skyblade in his haste. Concern was drawn clear over his face as he knelt by Yurius’ side. His clothes were smudged dark by the soot on the ground, but Albert did not seem to care.

The first thing he’d asked was if Yurius was able to stand.

Albert did not question him about the state he’d found the clearing in, with its burning branches and singed grasses. Nor did he point out the dirt on Yurius’ clothes, or the wounds on his face. Yurius imagined that it was Albert’s way of giving him space. He trusted Yurius to tell him about everything later on, if not at all.

If his throat had not felt so unusually tight, Yurius would have laughed. In that moment, it was strikingly clear why the people of Levin considered this man a hero - straightforward and kind, Albert was extending help to him yet again.

And now here he was, still supporting Yurius as they made their way back to the tavern, on a journey that seemed to take forever. They had lapsed back into silence, with only the sound of leaves rustling in the cold breeze to punctuate the quiet.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation,” Yurius said.

In the distance, faint lights were starting to peek out from between gaps in the trees. In the nighttime gloom, he could not quite make out the shape of buildings, but the gentle glow from streetlamps and other establishments made clear the silhouette of the town they had been tasked to visit a few days ago.

“You don’t have to do it tonight,” said Albert. His voice was very soft, his gaze now cast to the dirt road underfoot.

Yurius shook his head lightly. “I don’t believe in sleeping on important findings,” he said. “I’ll tell you everything when we’re back indoors.”

 

 

 

The barmaid by the empty tavern counter rested her curious gaze on them when they stumbled through the front doors, but a quick word from Albert - just some wild beasts in the forest, they’ve taken care of it - was enough to shut her up. She returned to polishing the smooth wooden bartop, while Albert led Yurius up the stairs.

It was an odd time of night, now well past dinner but not quite late enough for supper. Yurius supposed that it was good fortune for them that the tavern floor was largely empty at this hour. Most patrons were likely soaking in the hot springs that the town was famed for. He and Albert had been sent to report on the location’s potential as a national investment for tourism, as a well-meaning arrangement by those three sister-knights that Albert was so fond of.

“I can walk on my own,” Yurius protested softly, as they ascended the last flight of steps and emerged into the upper levels of the tavern.

"Our room’s just up ahead,” refused Albert, stubborn. “You’re also hurt.”

Lined down a long corridor were numbered guestrooms set with fine oak doors. The space was lit by rich, warm light that emanated from brass lamps hanging from the walls. Befitting a hotsprings resort town, establishments that offered their services to visitors were always finely maintained. Yurius found himself appraising the tavern once more, despite the soreness he felt in his joints.

It didn’t take Albert very long to locate their designated guestroom. With his hands full supporting another body’s weight, Yurius was the one who pulled the keys out from Albert’s backpocket, unlocking the door so they could both be let in.

“I’m alright now, Albert,” sighed Yurius, once they were inside. “Really. I’m feeling much better.”

“Are you sure?”

“You don’t have to ask so many times.”

Albert fixed Yurius with a searching look, which Yurius returned. After a pause, he released Yurius abruptly, sticking out a hand in his direction.

“Pass me the keys,” he said. “I’ll lock up. You can tell me about what happened while I do.”

“Alright,” sighed Yurius. He ceded the door keys to Albert, making his way to where their beds were. There were two double beds set with their headboards against the wall, just below a set of fine landscape paintings. The sheets were freshly made, presumably by staff who had been into the room for cleaning just before they’d left. Just like the corridor outside, their room was also well-lit by soft, golden lamplight.

He sat himself on the edge of one of the beds. He couldn’t recall if this was his or Albert’s; such details were inconsequential at the moment. Yurius took a deep breath, shifting his gaze upwards to rest on Albert’s back as the other man fumbled with the lock by the front door.

“I was attacked,” he said, and saw Albert’s shoulders visibly tense. Yurius chuckled lowly to himself. “I happened to see some armed soldiers on the outskirts of town. It’s strange to have so many in a small town, so I thought to follow them.”

“And then?” Albert threw a look over his shoulder. “They attacked you?”

 _Yes_ , Yurius wanted to say. It would have been the truth.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I found them with cages of wild monsters, beasts they’d brought into this town. They were going to set them all loose, to have this location fall from favor as Levin’s potential investment.”

At his words, the frown on Albert’s face was replaced instantly with a look of horror. “Who would put the townspeople in danger for something like that?”

“A pig blinded by greed, who else?” Yurius sighed.

Both he and Albert had been there for the meeting, where Yurius himself had selected this precise settlement for development. Not everyone had been happy with the arrangements, and despite him explaining repeatedly why the town was their best choice, that the revenue it could generate would help Levin rebuild, it had taken Albert’s firm declaration of support to quell the grumbling amongst their ranks.

As usual, it was always Albert who held the power necessary to silence dissent.

“Do you remember Galia? That young noble?” Yurius asked, quickly pushing away the sour thought. He was glad for Albert’s aid. “He voiced his disapproval of my decision quite clearly.”

“Yeah. He was bitter that his own land wasn’t made part of the development project.”

“I overheard the soldiers talking. They work for him,” Yurius explained. “Of course, they weren’t too pleased that I interrupted their work. The monsters were freed, and you arrived looking for me in the middle of that chaos.”

Done with the lock, Albert moved to Yurius’ side. He settled down by him, the bedsprings creaking under their combined weight. “Is that all?”

Yurius inclined his head slightly towards Albert, calling another smile to his lips in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He didn’t quite want to narrate the less savory details - that the soldiers had been aware of the lies obscuring his involvement in the late king’s death, that they had driven their fists into him for trying to stop them; they mocked him for being a powerless, idealistic fool.

And there had been that all too familiar voice.

He could still hear the primal in his ears, the thing that spoke to him in his own voice. Enticing tones told him that he needed power, overwhelming power, to silence these people who did not understand his goals. He’d thought the creature to be buried away, but here it was again, a mirror of his own image telling him that he still needed _more_. In blind desperation, he had reached out for the primal’s strength.

That was when the fires started. Yurius could not remember much else of that moment, after the rush of energy passed through him and set the clearing ablaze, the soldiers fleeing in fear.

“That’s all there is,” he murmured. “I confronted the soldiers, and they weren’t happy to see me.”

Stomach churning uncomfortably at the memory, Yurius focused his attention instead on Albert. Anything at all to distract his mind.

Albert’s eyes were colored a deeper maroon shade in the low light. The other man watched him quietly, his gaze never wavering from Yurius’ face.

“...Alright,” Albert sighed at last. “We’ll find a way to deal with Galia on the way back to the capital.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Yurius offered Albert a small smile, this time genuine. “I should clean up, my clothes are rather filthy. Yours as well.”

“It’s a little late for that.” Only now did Albert look away, his gaze flickering to the windows. They were tightly shut, translucent curtains drawn over them. Just beyond their glass panelling, it was clear that the night had long since covered the land in a veil of pitch black.

“Oh, I didn’t notice the time,” said Yurius, blinking in realization. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he’d thought. “A change of clothes will do, then. The hotsprings won’t dry up overnight, and there’s always tomorrow morning.”

While it was disappointing to not be able to soak his weary bones in the warm bathwater, he’d become a little too comfortable ever since settling down. Some of the earlier tension had eased out from him over time as he sat with Albert, their shoulders bumping whenever Yurius spoke.

Getting to his feet, it took Yurius a moment to regain his bearings. He moved to a corner of the room to swap his dirty clothing for a new garment more suitable for rest. There was a rustling of fabric from somewhere behind him that indicated Albert was doing the same, too.

Just before Yurius made to shrug off his coat, he paused. His skin still bore souvenirs from earlier, when the guards had held him with rough hands and bruised him with their fists. It did not hurt enough to last, but - he snuck a glance over his shoulder. Behind him, Albert was preoccupied with changing, the dark brown leathers of his usual raiment already discarded by his feet.

Yurius shifted his gaze back to his own skin. The angry red marks left on his arms were stark against his complexion, dark purple bruises lined along his abdomen. Hastily, he threw on a fresh shirt.

By the time he was done, Albert had also finished packing up his side of the room. Yurius noted that he’d taken care to leave the Skyblade leaning against the wall by his bed, just within arms’ reach.

Catching Albert’s eye from across the room, Yurius nodded to him. “Goodnight,” he said.

He’d expected Albert to return his words with a similar greeting, or to nod and crawl into his own bed in silence. What Yurius had failed to predict entirely was Albert striding over to his side of the room, throwing open the sheets on Yurius’ finely made bed, then diving under the covers himself.

Yurius stared.

“What?” said Albert after a pause, indignant. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done this. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Those other times, I was still technically a knight of Levin,” Yurius pointed out. “Also, it was during fieldwork in the wild, where we had little choice but to share a bed.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It isn’t,” Yurius agreed. He made his way over, and Albert shifted aside to make space. Yurius sat on the edge of the mattress, looking down at the blond. “What brought this on?”

“Yurius,” said Albert flatly. His eyes narrowed, his lips pulled into a grim line. “You could have died earlier.”

“I wouldn’t have. You’re assuming the worst.”

“What else was I supposed to think?” Albert sighed heavily, scrubbing roughly at his face with one hand. There was a tinge of frustration in his voice. “You never came back to the tavern, and when I found you it was in the middle of a scene like that.”

“I was -”

“Let me finish.”

Yurius snapped his mouth shut, forcing any words that had been on his tongue, back into his throat. Albert locked eyes with him, nodding appreciatively before continuing to speak.

“You thought you were going to die there,” he said. “I saw it in your face. And then I saw the trees burning, and the monsters all around you. A lot must’ve happened. So, well,” his voice faded until it was barely above a mumble. “I thought this was appropriate. Considering the situation.”

Yurius blinked. He did not reply. For a beat, awkward silence hung between the both of them.

And then, unbidden, low laughter fell from his lips. Yurius laughed, a hand coming up to hide it from Albert’s view, but it was already too late. Albert scowled petulantly at him but said nothing, waiting for Yurius’ response.

“I apologize,” managed Yurius at last, the corners of his lips still curled upwards despite his best efforts. “Alright, I understand. Thank you for your kind offer.”

The scowl remained on Albert’s face, but Yurius paid it no mind. It wasn’t a severe look. If anything, Albert seemed to be in a better mood now.

It took Yurius little time to grab a pillow from the other bed, joining Albert in his.

“It’s been awhile,” sighed Yurius, as he settled in. The space was slightly cramped, the bedframe built to comfortably hold one person with some excess - not two grown adults. The mattress creaked softly under their combined weight. It was fortunate that both he and Albert were slight.

Albert, meanwhile, had taken to resolutely keeping his back to Yurius. He faced away from him, his hair set like tousled straw against the fresh sheets. Yurius raised an eyebrow.

“Is something the matter?”

“No. I just thought you might need some space.”

Yurius chuckled. It was very much like Albert, to be clumsily considerate even at a time like this.

“We’ve already been to the baths together, I believe matters of privacy are trivial between us,” he said.

Without waiting for the other man’s response, Yurius drew his arms around Albert, pulling both their bodies close. In the calm, cold quiet of night, Albert was a furnace of warmth. It was fascinating how it felt to draw his fingers over Albert’s bare skin, alight with life.

It took Albert awhile to respond. But in time he turned over, until the both of them lay facing each other again. His own arms found their way around Yurius, coming to curl around his waist. Albert’s grip was relaxed, though firm. Something about it was indeed oddly comforting.

Yurius pressed his cheek close, burying his face in Albert’s blond hair. He took a deep breath. In his arms, Albert smelt faintly of smoke and ash.

Yurius let his eyes fall slowly shut. The voice of the primal beast had since faded from his ears.

 

 

 

“I thought you said you were going to take a break,” came Albert’s voice from the doorway.

Yurius looked up from the papers piled on his desk, just as a file slid away and clattered to the floor. The sound echoed throughout his study. Yurius picked it up hastily, tossing it onto the large wooden chair just behind the table.

It had been three days since their return to the Levin capital, two since Albert vanished with Mina to discuss security for townships beyond the city’s reach, and one since Yurius smoothed over objections to his plans for infrastructural development. He silently included a few more resort towns into the project, one of which fell under Galia’s jurisdiction. It was enough for the noble lords, who were little more than simple-minded creatures driven by wealth and profit.

“I _am_ taking a break, dear friend of mine,” sighed Yurius. In fact, most of the books that lined the expansive bookshelves across his study were still in their place. “I was only doing some reading.”

“That’s just your way of saying ‘research’.”

Yurius would have snorted if Albert hadn’t been absolutely right.

These days, Albert dropped by his study with increasing frequency, as if he hadn’t already had his hands full with managing the knightly order. National security had been left largely in Albert’s hands. Yurius was well aware that investing in areas beyond the capital city would stretch their forces very thin. Yet Albert still found time to visit, making good on his promise to check in on Yurius, as if he were a child that refused to sleep past his bedtime hours.

“Very well,” he ceded, as Albert made to move closer.

Yurius carefully swept a few papers into a pile, under the pretense of clearing up his desk. He placed them on the ground, just out of view, before moving more books aside.

“You’re done reading the Saint Lethan tales,” Albert observed.

Yurius nodded quietly. The previous time Albert had visited, he’d lied that he was preoccupied with the childhood fairytale. Well, it had been a partial truth. He was rereading the tale, the same time he was hypothesizing further experiments on the primal beast of the Celestial Eye.

“It’s a lot less glorious than I’d remembered,” Yurius shrugged. “But I suppose people like having something to believe in.”

“That’s not a bad thing, right?”

“They enjoy comparing us to the heroes of that story.” Yurius’ gaze flitted up to Albert, who had moved to lean against a bookshelf with his arms folded. “I thought I’d refresh my memory a little.”

Albert’s eyes roamed across the ivory pillars and ornate carvings that decorate the study. In the bright sunlight that streamed through clear windows set in the high ceiling, his hair was the color of wheat.

“I don’t think I could live up to a hero’s name,” Albert commented, expression pulling tight into a small frown.

“You’re more hero than I am, at least.”

Albert’s gaze snapped to him warningly. Yurius laughed, throwing up his hands.

“Alright, I understand. I won’t say such things anymore.”

People still bought Albert’s story - that the late king had been killed in an accident involving the Astral Void Lacrima, and both Yurius and Albert had set off to resolve the threat of the Celestial Eye hanging over Levin. According to this version of events, they’d stopped the Eye from firing its immense lightning just before it was about to immolate the entire city. They were showered with gratitude, and Yurius was welcomed back to Levin as a hero.

It was all false.

The king’s death had been murder by his own hands, and the damage done to Levin was in part his doing. Albert had beseeched Yurius to return with him, to make right his wrongs, to rebuild their kingdom _together_ \- all the while demanding no reward and rejecting praise he believed he did not deserve.

He was the only hero of this story.

“We’ve both made our mistakes,” said Albert quietly. “I chose wrongly, and hurt both you and the kingdom.”

“In your own words - that’s all in the past.” Yurius met Albert’s gaze, holding it level with his. “We’re to concentrate on the present, right?”

For all his reputation as a serious man who held his feelings too close to his heart, Albert seemed to wear his emotions so clearly sometimes. At Yurius’ words, the clouds over his pensive expression broke into an easy smile that looked quite comfortable on him.

“We’re looking at the future, too,” Albert said. His gaze moved from Yurius to the open doorway. He extracted his back from the bookshelf behind him, straightening up. “I’d better go. They want me to finalize border patrols before noon.”

“Aren’t you a busy one, O Thunderswift Lord?”

“Stop calling me that,” Albert grunted, without much heat behind his words. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Come fetch me if I’m not there,” called Yurius. “I often forget the time.”

“You’ll go back to work the instant I’m out of sight, won’t you.”

“You know me all too well.”

Albert departed from the study with a quick wave over his shoulder, the sound of his hurried footfalls fast fading into the distance. Yurius watched him go. Once Albert vanished around the corner, he moved immediately, shutting the door after him.

He made his way back to his desk, where he’d been working earlier before Albert’s unannounced visit. He knelt down, retrieving the papers he had placed on the carpeted floor.

The paper crinkled in his hands. Yurius scanned the words written there in his own ink.

There were reports that he could not let Albert see. They spoke of the primal beast's influence that remained in him, and the infrequent headaches he was starting to experience. He had since performed several experiments to separate it from himself, to no avail. The voice always came to him then, laughing at his struggle and demanding to be freed, urging Yurius to recall the rush of pleasure that coursed through his body when it had given him its power.

It had been thrilling, watching those soldiers run from him.

Yurius squeezed his eyes shut. He took a deep, steadying breath.

He had been lucky today. A dizzy spell had not come while he’d been with Albert. It was always so intense, as though his skull was splitting itself open from the inside out. Pain, white-hot and overwhelming, made it difficult to maintain control over his human form; his limbs would sometimes slip back into the tentacled chimera-body he’d worn while merged with the primal.

He glanced down at his own hands. His fingers trembled, but were still decidedly human. Yurius balled them into fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms.

If there was a way to tear away this cursed primal from him, to sink its haunting temptation back down to the dark depths of his soul, Yurius promised himself that he would find it. He would find it before he lost himself again.

 

 

 

By the end of the week, Albert was all but living in Yurius’ study.

Yurius would have chased him away - he was busy with his own matters; there was a perpetual mountain of paperwork to be done, not to mention other private experiments - but Albert had fixed him with a look so desperate that Yurius conceded defeat.

One day turned into two, and two into three.

Yurius blithely noted that they were all but sharing a room now. He was also guilty of forgetting the time and often slept over in the study on busier days.

Albert dropped in at irregular hours in the day, leaving only at night when the sunlight faded. Developing townships meant making sure no monsters attacked any infrastructure under the cover of night, and the Skyknights of Levin had been dispatched to far-flung areas to ensure against that. Albert remained in the capital but had to collate reports from knights returning at odd hours, managing all reassignments and shifts on his own. It was a large responsibility for someone whose hands were more accustomed to the rush of battle.

Yurius sighed, watching Albert sleep. Now which one of them was the overworked one?

Albert left the Skyblade by a set of bookshelves while he rested in the soft embrace of a nearby couch, just across from Yurius’ work desk. The piece of furniture was usually meant for guests, but Yurius had been using its plush surface as a second desk before Albert moved in. He rarely ever got visitors anyway.

The voices in his head bothered him far less when he had someone else to preoccupy his thoughts. The headaches had not come for awhile now, ever since Albert started taking refuge in the study. He had not made significant progress with the experiments, but he supposed it was alright to leave it be for now.

Outside, the light of day was fast dimming as the sun sank once again beneath the horizon. It was soon time for Albert to leave, as he always did on the days he hid himself here, away from prying eyes, snoring softly while Yurius worked.

“Albert,” called Yurius softly. It always fell on him to wake the other man. “It’s almost time. Don’t you have to leave?”

“Mngh,” grunted Albert, voice foggy from sleep. He had not moved from his spot on the couch.

“I won’t be held responsible if you’re late to your duties.” Yurius made his way to Albert’s side, crouching down beside him. “Wake up, Thunderswift Lord. Your people need you.”

“ _Please_ ,” Albert grumbled, squinting at Yurius with tired eyes. He stifled a yawn, shuffling slowly to a sitting position on the couch. His gaze shifted to the ceiling windows.

“...Oh,” he muttered, “oh, no.”

“I warned you.”

Albert swore under his breath. He all but leapt from the couch, hands going right for the Skyblade that lay by his side, throwing on his usual garments in one swift movement. Yurius, still crouched on the ground, appraised the swiftness of Albert’s action. Maybe this was something that came with years of training.

“I’ll make it on time,” Albert hissed, sounding as though he was trying to convince himself more than anything. He was fighting with his leather jacket, a hand caught in one of the sleeves.

Yurius chuckled at the sight.

“Perhaps I should wake you earlier,” he said, getting to his feet. He relieved Albert of his jacket, hands sorting deftly through the folds of his friend’s clothing, turning it inside-out before returning it. “Here you go.”

Albert nodded back gratefully. “Sorry,” he mumbled, sounding so genuinely apologetic that Yurius found it hard to be stern.

“It’s fine. What are friends for?”

“You’ve been very busy lately. I can’t keep interrupting your work.”

“You’ve just been sleeping,” Yurius stated blandly. “It’s not much distraction. I do appreciate the company, however.”

“I can’t be much company while asleep, can I?” laughed Albert, an amused smile pulling at his lips.

“Trust me, my friend,” Yurius said breezily, clapping Albert on the shoulder. “I think you’re wonderful.”

 

 

 

Over the next weeks they stole whatever time they could find, in the pauses between meetings and their busy schedules. Dubbed continuously as Levin’s twin heroes, their workload only increased as efforts to rebuild intensified.

As Yurius’ plans for township development crawled into actualization, he saw Albert less and less during the daytime. They brushed shoulders whenever they passed each other in the halls of the royal castle, trading smiles before rushing off. Sometimes, when they took their evening meals together. Albert’s fingers would curl against Yurius’ when he leant in close to whisper something to him. Yurius was often too distracted by the sensation to listen.

“Repeat that for me again?” Yurius murmured after, and Albert would.

Albert continued to rest in Yurius’ study.

He’d been placed on the night shift these days, and seemed to always be there by the time Yurius returned. He even stayed over on some days now. Yurius appreciated the effort. While Albert’s messy pile of clothing grew in size by the foot of the couch, it was nothing that a quick request to the maidservants could not fix.

With Albert around, the voice of the primal beast had also retreated back into the shadows. Yurius had not heard it speak for awhile, nor did the headaches relapse; he buried the experiment reports away in a desk drawer, overcome with relief.

“I’ll see you soon,” said Albert, each time he left for work. The life of a knight captain was a busy one.

Yurius leant against the doorframe. It had also become habit to send him off this way. “Tomorrow morning?”

“Maybe later tonight,” Albert shrugged. His gaze darted from Yurius to the darkened corridor, lit by heavy candelabra that lined the stone walls. He flicked his tongue hesitantly over his lips. “Will you still be here?”

“Where else would I be?”

“Anywhere but here, I guess.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” laughed Yurius.

He raised a hand, brushing aside strands of Albert’s hair from his face. It was a gesture of habit he’d picked up from Albert himself. The other man liked Yurius’ hair. One evening when Yurius leant over him to shake him awake, Albert had admitted as much, smiling in half-sleep as the strands tickled his cheek.

Albert startled at Yurius’ touch. In contrast, he didn’t seem to understand quite as profoundly that Yurius liked how he looked, too, with his head a ruffled bale of straw just after waking.

“Okay, good,” said Albert.

Instead of turning to leave, instead of chasing away Yurius’ hand, Albert instead reached up and took his fingers in his own. It was Yurius’ turn to raise his eyebrows, surprised at the ready ease that Albert accepted things between them.

Neither of them said anything for a moment.

Nights in Levin were chilling to the bone, befitting a kingdom that drew its power from thick, grey stormclouds. Amidst the cold, Albert’s touch burned into Yurius like raw energy. He looked down to where they were connected, their fingers gently interlaced. He gave Albert’s hand a light squeeze. Albert’s palms were a little clammy, and there was no force behind his loose grip. Yurius could slip his hand out and away if he wanted to.

He did not want to.

 

 

 

“What do you mean, this project won’t be moving on to the other towns?”

Cries of outrage filled the meeting hall. All around him, nobles and lords that owned the lands surrounding the capital were huddled around the long oakwood table set in the center of the wide room. Now, they faced Yurius with expressions of clear dissatisfaction.

Yurius gritted his teeth, indignation that swelling like a rising wave in his chest. As usual, few of the wealthy could see past their own greed. They had been spoonfed everything since birth, gifted with riches they did not work for, and now they expected Yurius to accommodate.

Before, he would have lowered his head and let them have their way. But now, as standing executive appointed to help his kingdom rebuild, he no longer had the luxury of complacency.

“I’ll repeat myself,” said Yurius, going over his words slowly. “We have to focus first on the candidates that we’ve selected. Construction of infrastructure in those areas is still underway. We cannot move on to develop new locations, when our resources are already -”

“We could accept aid!” protested a young lord.

Yurius didn’t spare the man a second glance. The faces of everyone in the room were beginning to blur together into a nondescript mess.

“Not carelessly,” he said firmly. His fingers curled tightly against the surface of the table. “Accepting aid is akin to owing a debt, something that Levin cannot easily afford.”

Dissent swept through the crowd in a low murmur. He could pick out harsh words in the torrent of syllables, uttered like a curse against him. The noise flooded his mind, befuddling his thoughts; Yurius shook his head to clear it.

“I understand it would be preferable if we could develop all townships equally,” he continued. His voice echoed through the hall. It was like listening to someone else speak - Yurius felt his lips move but barely registered the words coming from his own mouth.

“I ask for your patience. The project intends to address the generation of revenue through tourism, and there are future plans to build up all your lands in ways that would benefit our kingdom.”

There was another wave of reaction from the listening crowd.

Some were nodding their heads, seemingly assured that they would not be left behind by changing times. Others continued to frown, shooting dirty looks in Yurius’ direction as they grumbled. A few spoke in loud, brash tones, peppering their begrudging acceptance with passive resentment against him.

Their words, pouring out in a garbled and disjointed mess, were beginning to make Yurius’ head pound. He pressed a hand to his temple, the other steadying himself against the table.

“Are you feeling alright?” came Albert’s concerned voice from beside him.

Yurius had instructed him to remain silent for the meeting - the last one was resolved with a sharp word from Albert in his favor, but there were things he had to do alone. Albert, if he wanted, could watch. He did so, standing vigil all this while.

It felt like there was an enraged creature drumming against the insides of his skull. Yurius looked up at Albert, managing a thin smile.

Before he could reply, there was a loud jeer from one of the noble lords.

“Just because he’s the illegitimate son of the previous king, he thinks he can order us around!” The voice carried, loud and shrill, though Yurius could not quite pick out its owner from the sea of faces. “Forget townships - Levin doesn’t even have a ruler now! He’s just been avoiding the real problems!”

“That - that’s right!”

“No one’s claimed the throne...!”

Yurius was about to open his mouth to quell the sudden slew of accusations, when dizzying nausea overcame him. Then, it began - shattering pain.

He almost cried out loud. Yurius stumbled slightly where he stood, snapping his gaze down to his feet. It was back, the sensation of his head being torn open like it was fruit, by the coarse hands of an unwelcome stranger.

 _Silence them,_ hissed a familiar voice. It sounded terribly like himself. _They don’t understand anything you try to accomplish._

_If you had the power, you could have all of them cower before you instead._

Yurius’ breathing slowed to shallow breaths. His vision was a whirl of color. Something in his gut went very, very cold.

_You could sway their weak minds so easily._

The pounding in his head grew louder. It felt like a creature locked fast in a cage, flinging its body at the iron bars, clawing its way out of him.

_You wouldn’t have to struggle here._

No, Yurius thought desperately, amidst the increasingly furious din in the meeting room. No. He had to leave. Now, before it was too late.

“ _Quiet!_ ”

It was Albert’s voice that abruptly cut through the air, silencing the nobles’ hostile grumbling. It was rare for Albert to raise his voice like this, something Yurius would have pointed out if not for the faint spell that all at once swept over him, threatening to bring him to his knees. It took him every effort to remain standing, his gaze swimming about the room.

The voice in Yurius’ head did not cease its insistent lure. But for the moment, he could ignore it, pushing aside the pain as he focused solely on Albert.

Albert’s face was a mask of calm, but his voice belied his fury.

“Have all of you forgotten the damage done to Levin by the Celestial Eye?” he said, “or the destruction of the main streets, or the ruins of the town square?”

His hand fell to the Skyblade sheathed by his side. Yurius could tell that the crowd was watching Albert’s every move, from the way an invisible weight seemed to lift all at once from his shoulders.

“Yurius has been working tirelessly for the sake of Levin, to help us all rebuild from that disaster.” Albert shifted his gaze to Yurius.

Without warning, he reached across the table, placing his hand over his. Yurius blinked at the contact, jolted away from his thoughts.

“I trust him,” Albert said, holding Yurius’ gaze. His voice sounded strained. “This man does not desire the throne. He speaks only for the sake of our kingdom. I could never have managed without him here.”

A ripple of uncertainty passed through the crowd. The atmosphere in the room changed; the nobles frowned but with less vindictiveness behind it, their hostility melting away into something more relaxed. Yurius watched dimly as the heated anger from earlier seemed to dissipate just by Albert’s words alone.

 _There he goes_ , Yurius’ own voice whispered contemptuously at the back of his own mind. _Always the hero, looking out for you even in a time like this_.

Suddenly, it was difficult to breathe. Blood thundered in his ears. Rage, empty and cold, carved a hollow cavern inside him.

Yurius balled his fists tighter until he was sure his knuckles had gone white from the pressure.

_It's always the ones with power that can change things._

_Don’t you remember what it felt like to be strong?_

Yurius glanced over to Albert, who had turned away to address everyone. He was excusing the both of them from the meeting now; Yurius did not seem well, he would continue discussions shortly, we’ll be going for today. It was as though he were viewing it from underwater, his vision narrowed in on Albert alone, the sound of conversation muffled.

 _You still desire that strength, don’t you?_ whispered the beast inside his head.

 _You want his strength_.

At that exact moment, something began to slip away from inside him.

A burst of desperation urged Yurius to move. He laid a hand on Albert’s shoulder, pulling the other man roughly away with him as he made to leave.

It was Albert who caught him before he stumbled and fell. Yurius shook his head when their eyes met, and understanding seemed to pass over Albert immediately.

“Get me away from here,” Yurius choked out. Wordlessly, Albert obeyed.

 

 

 

Complacent. He had grown complacent.

Once back in the study, Albert dumped him on the couch before hurrying to lock the door behind them. He had not said anything since they’d left the meeting room. He seemed to be waiting for Yurius to initiate, even though he likely already knew what was happening.

The dull pain between Yurius’ temples rose and fell in irregular waves. His gaze swam about the room, coming to rest on Albert. Sometimes it was calming, other times it filled him with indescribable emotion but none of them positive.

“It’s come back,” Yurius muttered, short of breath. He felt unusually hot around the collar. “The primal beast from the Astral Void Lacrima, I’ve been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been hearing its voice again.”

Albert made his way back to the couch. He sat down beside him. From this distance, Yurius could see the lines drawn by worry in his face.

“You’re keeping things to yourself again,” said Albert. His tone was not accusing.

Yurius spat out a harsh laugh. “What was I to do? We’d assumed the best, that I’d regained control of my body. I was supposed to be _fixed_.”

“Yurius -”

“I know we could ask those skyfarers for help again,” Yurius continued. His fingers, laced in his lap, pressed tight against each other. “But we can’t keep doing that.”

“They would be happy to lend us their aid.”

“Not all the time, at our convenience.” Yurius dropped his eyes to the marbled flooring by his feet. “I have to find a solution myself.”

“You’ve said before that it was just another part of you.” Albert’s voice was soft, questioning. Yurius hated how he sounded.

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“It does,” Albert insisted. “What’s it telling you?”

“Albert,” said Yurius, as calmly as he could manage, “I wanted to see everyone in that meeting room dead.”

There was a pointed pause of silence. Yurius did not look up. He did not want to know what sort of expression Albert wore.

“...But you didn’t lose control back there,” said Albert, at last.

“How could I? I still have things I want to do. All this,” Yurius laughed, gesturing at himself, “it’s in the way.”

“Maybe you should accept the primal beast.” Albert looked conflicted. “It’s merged with you.”

“Don’t you understand? I don’t _want_ to.”

“It’s still you, and you wouldn’t act on what it says.”

“After all I’ve done, how can you be so sure?” Yurius’ head was throbbing again. “I almost did. Many times.”

Albert’s reply was immediate. “I trust you, Yurius.”

Albert was a simple person, and his heart was kind. Yurius knew that better than anyone else. He also hated that more than anyone, a senseless irritation churning inside him with each platitude that fell from his friend’s lips. The sound of Albert’s voice faded into dissonant static as the primal beast merged with Yurius began to speak again in earnest.

 _Look at all this_ , the voice insisted. _You don’t really believe anything that he’s saying, do you?_

_You know you would feel better. You would be free._

_You could have everything you wanted and more -_

“Shut _up_!” cried Yurius.

Too late, he realized his words had been spoken aloud.

Across him, Albert sat frozen in surprise. He had one hand up, hovering between them as though unsure where to rest it. He looked on the verge of saying something, too, but the words seemed to have clogged up in his throat. The study filled with a heavy silence.

“Maybe you were right all this time,” said Yurius eventually. “You would know, wouldn’t you? I can never hope to change this thing inside me.”

There it was again, that odd sensation of something crumbling away, like sand slipping through his fingers. Just like water would fall from his cupped palms, Yurius was helpless to stop it.

“If only you knew how vile my thoughts could be,” he said.

“Then,” said Albert, “tell me about them.”

He felt Albert’s touch fall to rest on him. Yurius looked down - it was not his hand that Albert was running his fingers across.

The tentacle slithered out from behind Yurius’ back. Not just one - there were several, splayed out across the cushioned surface of the couch, tickling at them both. He did not feel like counting the number. Though rough, bumpy ridges the texture of tree bark protruded from their surface, they were still unusually soft.

Dread pooled at the bottom of Yurius’ stomach.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he muttered. He’d seen this sight before, when his control over his form first began to waver, but now Albert was here with him.

“Not really. It was worse before,” Albert said simply. He gave the tentacle he was holding an experimental squeeze. “Is this uncomfortable for you?”

Yurius shifted in his seat. It felt like someone wrapping a hot towel around his entire body.

“Just a little odd,” he admitted.

Albert shifted until they were all but centimeters apart, his touch feather-light. “You know, you’re not any different even like this, Yurius.”

“You say that so confidently, my friend. I might just believe you.”

“Maybe if I repeat it enough times, you finally will.”

Yurius couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out of him. “Will you never tire of this?”

“No.” Albert frowned, sounding mildly put out. “I don’t think I give up very easily.”

“I’ll have to agree with that. You’re surprisingly persistent.”

“Hey,” Albert said, matter-of-fact, “I’d have to be, with friends like you.”

Albert’s hands moved to rest on either side of Yurius’ face.

Yurius sighed deeply, relaxing into his friend’s touch; even Albert’s palms were warm with heat, a stark contrast to the cool air that filled the expansive study. It was calming, to be so casually conversational while all this was happening to him. Somewhere along the way, the voice of the primal beast had quietened, and the pain between his temples had ceased entirely.

He did not back away when the distance closed between them.

It was Albert who drew them both together, fingers dancing on either side of Yurius’ jaw. His lips were a little dry, possibly from the extremities of weather around Levin, but Yurius invited him in regardless. The appendage once in Albert’s grip slid away from its hold. Like an extra limb, it reached out, brushing strands of blond, sun-shaded hair from his face.

Albert kissed with an electrifying passion that set every part of Yurius aflame, as though they had both waited an age for this moment, and - they really had.

 

 

 

Motor control, Yurius discovered, was unexpectedly frustrating while he was distracted.

Before, his body seemed to know exactly what to do, carried upon waves of unrelenting anger. The writhing mass of vine-like ropes and tentacles that had been his chimera self shifted easily on instinct.

Now, things were more complicated. Yurius had to think.

Albert’s breath mingled with his, his hands still cupped around Yurius’ face. It was familiar and comforting, his touch humming with the static energy that slept in his veins.

“Yurius,” Albert gasped his name, the heat leaving Yurius’ mouth all at once as he broke their kiss for air, “these - these things, I mean, you, don’t -”

He seemed to be at a loss for words, hands scrambling downwards to pull at the tentacles that had come to wind themselves around his thighs, pushing under the hem of his clothing. Some had wound around his waist, another stroked playfully at his wrists.

Yurius hadn’t even noticed. Perhaps the half of his mind that belonged to the primal beast was capable of acting on pure instinct.

Interesting, he thought. A point worthy of note.

“They’re not going to eat you,” Yurius murmured, and he knew it was true the instant he spoke. They were a part of him now, and they moved at his will.

“That’s not what I was trying to say,” groaned Albert, as Yurius’ hold on him tightened.

Yurius laughed. It was getting easier to control his new limbs. He felt Albert everywhere, all at once, the appendages that extended from him now tight around some part of the other man.

As if obeying his every whim, the tentacles slid into Albert’s pants, their touch soft but purposeful. Albert bit back a cry, and it came out as little more than muffled noise when the tentacles began stroking between his legs, rubbing against him teasingly as they eased his cock out.

Yurius’ gaze followed their movements. It was fascinating watching the appendages - watching himself work. He had never thought about it this way; that he was the primary organ of a larger system, the mind behind the network that his body had become. The tentacles fed the sensation of touch directly to his brain, and Yurius sighed as he felt Albert swell with his entire being.

“Incredible,” he breathed, almost reverent. “They cannot smell, nor can they see or hear, but their sense of touch is intact.”

“What?”

“I’d like to test something.”

Yurius pressed a light kiss to Albert’s lips. The blond frowned, but his expression soon gave way to a complex mix of emotion as the tentacles sped up their pace. Albert groaned, abandoning the effort of speech to bury his face in the crook of Yurius’ neck instead.

“Is this - is this some kind of experiment to you!?” managed Albert, through gritted teeth.

“I’ve always been a researcher at heart.”

“Yurius!”

Ignoring Albert’s cries, Yurius kept his grip firm. His hands rested on Albert’s quivering hips, forcing him to remain straddling his lap even as the tentacles around them slowly worked him to completion.

Wet, obscene noise filled the study. The heat emanating off Albert’s body made Yurius’ head spin. Running his tongue across Albert’s lips, Yurius eased them open, and Albert kissed him desperately, gratefully, burying away the noises he was making into Yurius’ mouth.

He wasn’t quite done yet.

A tentacle - one of the larger ones lined with jagged teeth that eerily resembled those that had made up his entire lower body before - wound itself around Albert’s cock. Yurius smiled into their kiss. Albert’s eyes widened, the haze of pleasure suddenly lifted from them by a spark of panic.

“It won’t bite,” whispered Yurius, then the tentacle swallowed Albert’s length whole.

He was never more thankful that they’d locked the door behind them.

A tremor wreaked through Albert’s entire body. “Yurius,” he cried aloud, voice breaking, “I - ah -”

Energy, hot and electric, rushed through Yurius as taste blossomed on his tongue. His mouth felt so full. It was almost as if _he_ was the one that had put his lips around Albert’s cock, and the thought alone made Yurius’ breath hitch in his throat.

As though responding to his desires, the tentacle squeezed its insides tight around Albert. Yurius did not stop it. He wanted to feel more of him, to drink from Albert and drown in the storm that slept in his blood. Trapped in Yurius’ arms, Albert moaned helplessly as the appendage sucked, working itself up and down his length. His hips jerked, mindless, seeking more of the wet heat - with each thrust, Yurius felt Albert push deep into his throat, filling his mind with a searing pleasure. He was no longer sure if the noises he heard were the sounds of Albert’s pleasure or his own.

He could have stayed like this forever.

But all at once, Yurius’ mouth was flooded with another different scent. It was strange, bitter and strong in a way that filled all his senses with nothing else but its taste. Startled, he swallowed down his own breath; the smell seemed to flow into him, and his throat tightened involuntarily at the sensation. A warmth spread throughout his mouth as he did so, thick and viscous.

Only then did Yurius notice Albert shaking in his lap. The arms he’d thrown around Yurius’ neck were locked fast in place, wound up with a tension that ran throughout his entire body.

“Albert?” Yurius paused. The other man’s skin was slick with sweat, his breathing coming in heaving pants as his back rose and fell. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” said Albert. He sounded breathless, cheeks flushed. “I just need some time.”

The tentacle detached itself from Albert with a low, squelchy noise. Yurius glanced down. Dripping from its gaping mouth were white droplets of liquid.

“Oh,” said Yurius, swallowing at the sight.

Albert’s taste lingered in his mouth. His hypothesis had been right - another interesting, distracting fact to note, then. Before his mind could wander into the complexities of feeding and digesting for a half-primal body, he felt fingers tug at the belt around his waist.

Yurius stiffened. His gaze flew to Albert in alarm.

Albert seemed to have recovered, still straddling his lap. This time, there was a confidence in his posture that read that _he_ was the one keeping Yurius pinned down, no longer the other way around.

“Only you would think of researching at a time like this,” Albert grumbled, his fingers making fast work of the belt, tossing it to the floor.

“These are huge leaps in progress,” Yurius protested weakly.

Albert rolled his eyes. His hands moved to the buttons of Yurius’ shirt.

Yurius could have sworn there were sparks of electricity glancing off Albert’s fingers. Whenever he brushed them across bare skin, Yurius felt a tingle pass through him. Around them, the tentacles had shrunk back, a visible display of his own anticipation.

He held his breath.

When Albert surged forward to capture Yurius’ lips in his, Yurius met him easily with honest wanting.

 

 

 

“All things considered,” said Yurius, much later, “I would consider this a huge success.”

“...Okay?”

The mid-afternoon sunlight splashed across the marble floor of the study in waves. From where he lay slumped in the chair by Yurius’ desk, leafing lazily through a sheaf of reports, Albert only looked increasingly confused. He had yet to button up his shirt, something Yurius would have corrected if he wasn’t currently at the other side of the study, trying to direct his tentacles to help reach certain tomes high upon the bookshelves.

Yurius frowned. He’d almost succeeded in sliding the book clumsily off the wooden shelf, when his grip slipped and sent the thick volume crashing to the floor beside him. The tentacles slithered back into his back, vanishing entirely. Yurius winced at the noise, glad that the book hadn’t landed on his head instead.

“What are you doing?” Albert had looked up, and was staring blankly at him.

Yurius grimaced. “It seems they can perform simple tasks, but will require some fine-tuning for strength.”

“Really?” Albert held up a wrist, pointing at it with his other hand. There were chafe marks on his skin that made Yurius sore just to look at. “You had no problems earlier.”

“It’s, well,” Yurius waved a dismissive hand, pointedly declining to answer, “the heat of the moment, and all that.”

“I don’t know if I’m willing to be used as your training grounds for getting used to this thing.”

“What happened, my friend? Weren’t you encouraging me to open up to you?”

“Yes, but,” Albert trailed off into a sigh. “Nevermind. Is everything with the primal beast alright now? Your reports here mentioned the headaches and voices.”

Yurius paused at Albert’s question. He was, indeed, feeling a lot more like himself at the moment - more than he’d felt in awhile. It was strange, to no longer be haunted by the sensation that everything he had was slowly falling away, to live without uncertainty hanging like a guillotine over his head.

Of course, there were a mountain of problems that remained.

Even without the pain splitting him into two, even if he could appear human most times, Yurius was still unmistakably part-chimera, something he was already fast coming to terms with. The violent swirl of emotions that he held towards most of the royal court was unchanged. Reparations and rebuilding efforts were still underway, and Levin was yet without a king. Even so, the people of the country would continue to label him a hero.

“I’m alright,” he said, deciding on his answer. “I have you by my side after all, O Great Thunderswift Lord.”

Albert let out a groan so audible that Yurius heard it even from all the way across the room. “You’re more attached to that title than I am.”

“It suits you.”

“Someone will come up with one for you soon, just wait for it.”

“Oh, please. I’m hardly deserving.”

“You’ll _be_ deserving, Yurius.” Albert tossed the papers he was holding back onto the desk, smiling kindly. There was no hesitation in his voice. “I’m here. I’ll help you with whatever you need.”

“I -” Yurius started, but found that he lacked the drive to continue protesting.

Albert was watching him, elbows propped on the desk now, his gaze sure and steady. Yurius returned his smile, sincere, for what felt like the first time in years.

“I look forward to our future,” said Yurius, and he meant those words with all his heart.

 

**Author's Note:**

> congrats to albert on finally getting that 5* uncap!!!! comments, as always, are very much appreciated.


End file.
